


smoke break

by Clown_Teeth



Series: get in loser, we're gonna go fuck clarissa's dad [2]
Category: Slipknot (Band), Stone Sour (Band)
Genre: 4, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Betrayal, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Dick Pics, Dry Humping, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hair-pulling, Kissing, M/M, NSFW, OC, OCs - Freeform, Original Character(s), Porn, Porn With Plot, Public Blow Jobs, RPF, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Sexual Inexperience, Smoking, Smut, Suicide mention, Underage Smoking, age gap, dilf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Teeth/pseuds/Clown_Teeth
Summary: 'what if she finds out''Calm down, do as you're told.'Oh, so that's how he was going to act about it?Before you could respond, Clarissa was snapping her fingers in front of your face."Heellloooo?! Earth to (y/n)! We're working on a portfolio, remember?"You blinked rapidly, dropping your phone in your lap."Uh," your mouth was dry. "Yeah, sorry."
Relationships: James Root/Reader, Jim Root/Reader
Series: get in loser, we're gonna go fuck clarissa's dad [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985975
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	smoke break

It had been two weeks since you went on your late-night drive with James. 

It had also been two weeks since you'd seen Clarissa. 

After everything had happened, you calmly slid yourself off the hood of the car and got yourself dressed. James drove you home in silence, the car filled with tension so thick you swore you could have sliced it with a butter knife. He bid you goodnight, you showered, and you went to bed. 

You'd woken up to a simple message from him: 

_ 'Last night can't happen again. I'm sorry, things went too far.' _

You didn't bother responding. 

You picked your car up from their house early in the morning, before they were awake. You couldn't bring yourself to face Clarissa, not yet anyway. You knew she'd look at you with those big, green eyes and you'd spill your guts to her right then and there. 

But after a week and a half of avoiding her, she was getting suspicious. You'd never gone this long without seeing her, let alone ignoring her calls and increasingly-aggravated texts. 

**_Rissa 🌺_ **

_ 'where are u?'  _

_ 'do u hate me or something? did I do something?'  _

_ 'pls call me'  _

_ 'what's going on'  _

You simply couldn't ignore her anymore. So you texted her back, hoping to ease her anxiety. 

_ 'Sorry, been busy, I'm working on a portfolio to send to this university'  _

You typed your message quickly, tossing your phone onto your bed, scared to see her response. Anxiety filled your stomach, and you chewed on your nails until your phone pinged. 

_ 'oh :( I could've helped'  _

Thank God for Clarissa being so understanding. Before you could reply, she messaged again. 

_ 'why don't u come over and I'll help? 😊'  _

You sighed, knowing you couldn't avoid her much longer. 

_ 'Sure, when do u want me there?'  _

You grabbed a bag, shoving your laptop and a notebook inside of it. If you were honest, you hadn't even started your portfolio yet. You hoped Clarissa wouldn't question it too much. 

_ 'now 👀?'  _

Your phone pinged once more, and you laughed at her message. She was always so sweet; it only made you feel guiltier. 

_ 'On my way 👻'  _

-

Their house was quieter than usual; no one bustling around with instruments. In fact, the garage door was shut when you pulled into the driveway. Out of curiosity, you peeked through the windows of the garage door, wondering where everyone was. 

The drum kit that normally sat in the center of the garage was pushed against the back wall, a few guitars and amps sitting beside it. James' car was parked in the garage, making it hard to see much else. No one appeared to be inside, so you made your way to the front door. 

You didn't bother knocking, instead walking inside as if the home was your own. You adjusted the straps of your bag, shifting the weight from one shoulder to the other. You glanced around the empty living room, wondering where everyone was. 

You walked into the kitchen, calling out for Clarissa. When you received no response, you pulled out your phone, and called her. 

From across the house, you could hear her phone ringing. You followed the sound, leading you to the hallway, outside the bathroom. You knocked on the door, announcing your presence. 

"I'm showering!" she called out and you snorted. 

"Bullshit!" you replied, knocking on the door harder. "I don't hear the water running!" 

The door swung open, and there she was, in all her red-haired glory. "Oh!" she exclaimed, breaking into a grin. "I thought you were my dad!" 

The mention of Jim sent a punch to your gut, and you forced a smile, ignoring the guilt gnawing at your insides. "Nope," you spoke through your teeth, "just me." 

Clarissa either didn't notice or chose to ignore it, and spun around to face the mirror. She snatched a pair of tweezers off the sink, holding them out to you expectantly. 

"Here, come help me get this damned hair before I wax my entire body." 

You chuckled, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. This was Clarissa’s bathroom - the hair products covering the sink making it obvious. Although, you couldn’t deny that the thought of James spending hours using the various products in his hair made your lips turn up into a smile. You took the tweezers from her, letting her get situated on the counter. 

You stood between her legs, waiting for her to give you access to her brows.

“So,” she started, pushing her hair out of her face. “Where have you been?”

The exact question you  _ didn’t _ want her to ask. 

“Home, mostly,” you answered, trying to avoid the topic altogether. “C’mere so I can do this.”

She leaned down, closing her eyes. You held her face in your free hand, the other holding the tweezers, moving towards her brows with purpose. 

“I know you haven’t just been working on that report,” she continued, never one to back down. If she wanted answers, she was determined to get them.

You sighed, plucking the hair that had been troubling her with ease.

“Well,” you started, taking a step back. “Your dad…”

_ ‘Maybe if you tell her now she won’t hate you forever.’ _

“Ugh,” she cut you off, scrunching her nose up in mock disgust. “Did he give you one of those stupid lectures about drinking and driving? He told me he drove you home.”

Your throat felt dry. So she knew you were with him that night, alone. What else had he told her? 

“Yeah, he did,” you lied, giving her a half-hearted smile. 

Some friend you were. 

“He’s ridiculously over-protective,” Clarissa added, hopping off the sink and inspecting her eyebrows in the mirror. “I’ll tell him to save the weird dad-talks for me, not you.”

“I appreciate it,” you joked, awkwardly stuffing your hands in your pockets. 

Why was it so easy for you to lie about this?

-

"I can't  _ believe  _ you haven't even started!" Clarissa exclaimed, staring at the blank document on your laptop screen. 

You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "Well, that's why you're gonna help me, right?" you asked sweetly, batting your lashes at her. 

She laughed, her nose scrunched up, her eyes crinkling at the edges. 

"Only because I owe you for doing my brows," she answered, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

You chuckled, taking the laptop from her hands and setting it in front of you. "Okay," you cleared your throat, trying to be serious. "Where do we start?" 

Your phone buzzed, and Clarrisa groaned. "Not now!" she griped, wagging an accusatory finger at you. "That's why you haven't gotten anything done!" 

"It'll just be a second," you assured her, rolling your eyes as you pulled your phone out of your pocket. 

The name on the screen made your heart drop to your stomach. 

**_James 🎸_ **

_ 'I didn't know you were coming over today. Ris didn't tell me.' _

A hard lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed. You hated that you were excited he was talking to you again. 

_ 'Yeah, she's just helping me out. I can go tho, sorry' _

You set your phone face down on the bed, not wanting Clarissa to see who you were talking to. You tried to focus on the screen of your laptop, but your phone pinged again. 

_ 'No, I'm glad you're back.' _

Fuck, your heart was pounding in your chest. How can him saying something so simple make you feel like this? 

_ 'I missed you.' _

Why was he saying these things now? You couldn't tell if he regretted what happened or not. A tiny voice in the back of your mind spoke up, insistent that maybe he even  _ wanted  _ you. 

You shook it away, forcing it down. 

No, he said it couldn't happen again. He regrets it, he doesn't want you. It was a mistake.  _ You _ were a mistake. 

_ 'I miss u too'  _

Your fingers typed out the message and sent it before you could convince yourself not to. It was almost thrilling, sitting next to Clarissa while texting James, her unknowing…

_ 'Aw, you missed me? Cute ;)'  _

He had to be joking, he was just spinning you in circles. 

_ 'clarissa is right next to me'  _

You were gauging his reactions, trying to see how far he would go. 

_ 'Relax, she won't know if you just relax.' _

You forced yourself to take a breath, trying to steady yourself. So he  _ was  _ flirting with you. What changed? 

_ 'what if she finds out'  _

_ 'Calm down, do as you're told.' _

_ Oh _ , so that's how he was going to act about it? 

Before you could respond, Clarissa was snapping her fingers in front of your face. 

"Heellloooo?! Earth to (y/n)! We're working on a portfolio, remember?" 

You blinked rapidly, dropping your phone in your lap. 

"Uh," your mouth was dry. "Yeah, sorry." 

"I  _ told  _ you this is why you've gotten nothing done!" 

You rolled your eyes, ignoring her taunts as you forced James' words to the back of your mind. 

_ Do as you're told. _

-

Over the course of the next hour, your phone pinged and buzzed with incoming messages, but you forced yourself to focus on your project. You were itching to check your phone, almost certain it was James. 

Lucky for you, Clarissa stood, stretching, and loudly announced she was going to grab some water. The second she left her room, you scrambled to open your phone. 

_ 'I feel like such a perv, talking to you like this.'  _

_ 'I just can't help myself.' _

_ 'You better be being good.'  _

You clenched your thighs together, his open admission of wanting you driving you crazy. You glanced at the bedroom door, gauging how much time you had before Clarissa returned. Acting quick, you opened your camera, wrapping your free hand around your throat.

He seemed to like choking you that night. 

You squeezed your throat, snapping a photo, and sent it to him. It was a bold move, taking things even a step further, but it only excited you more. The adrenaline only coursed through you quicker when Clarissa strode into the room just as you pulled your hand from your neck. 

She handed you a glass of water, setting her own on her nightstand before plopping down on the bed beside you. "Get anything else done while I was gone?" she asked expectantly, grabbing your laptop. 

_ 'If you only knew,'  _ you thought, chewing on your lower lip anxiously as you waited for his reply. 

"Nah," you answered, eyeing your phone. "Wanted to wait for you to do it for me." 

She snorted, skimming over what you'd written so far. "You'd never graduate if it weren't for me," she teased, checking for grammar and spelling mistakes. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you didn't think you'd ever unlocked your phone quicker in your life. 

A photo, from a downwards angle, pointed towards his feet. From the gray concrete, you could assume he was in the garage. You turned your body away from Clarissa, shielding your phone as sneakily as possible. You clicked on the image, enlarging it to fill your screen. Worn blue jeans, stretched and tight, accommodating his clearly hard cock. 

You sucked in a breath, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Clarissa diligently typing away at your laptop. At this rate, she was going to finish the entire portfolio for you. 

_ ‘is that for me?’ _

You didn’t bother skirting around, at this point you were sick of the schoolyard flirting. He’d woken up something inside you that night in the field, and you weren’t ready to put it to rest. Not yet, at least. 

_ ‘All for you.’ _

With that message, your confidence soared, and you found yourself standing. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you rushed out a half-assed explanation, already half out the door. 

“Oh- uh, okay?” you heard Clarissa call after you, but you were on a mission. 

You walked down the hall, opening the door to the garage and quietly shutting it behind you. James was standing there, leaning against his car, a cigarette hanging from between his lips. His eyes widened with shock, clearly not having expected to see you.

He straightened his back, fixing his posture as you approached him. 

“Am I making you nervous?” you questioned, eyeing his movements. 

He pulled the cigarette away from his lips, blowing smoke out his nose. 

“No,” he answered, his voice low and unreadable. 

There was a motorcycle by the car, various parts and tools surrounding it. Jim’s hands were smudged black, sweat dripping from his brow. He’d been out here working on the bike, it seemed. 

You stepped closer to him, a coy smile on your lips. Knowing you got him riled up was making you surge with self-esteem. “What’re you doing?” he questioned, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He only succeeded in smearing oil across his face, and you never thought seeing a man covered in grime would be sexy.

He reached behind him, pulling a grease-covered rag out of his back pocket, attempting to clean up his hands. You stayed silent, eyeing his motions. He spun the rag around his fingers, his hands slowly reverting to their normal shade. 

You took the cigarette from him, close enough to hear his breath now. He watched you cautiously, his eyes never leaving your face. You took a drag, blowing the smoke in his face. He took a breath; his eyes dark, his pupils dilated. You had him wrapped around your finger. 

“Clarissa’s in the room,” you said slowly, quietly, dropping the half-smoked cigarette by your feet. 

You placed your hands on his chest, taking in the way the gray fabric clung to his sweaty torso. You hummed in appreciation, running your hands over his shoulders, up to his neck, before traveling back down, trailing to his stomach. He kept his hands at his sides, staying silent. 

“What?” you teased, stepping even closer, pressing your chest against his. “I thought that you were the big man in charge, telling me to behave.”

He clenched his jaw, glancing behind you at the door leading into the house. You looked over your shoulder, following his gaze. You ran your hands to his hips, giving his waist a reassuring squeeze. “I want you,” you murmured, leaning up to press your lips to his neck. You had to stand on your toes to reach him. “Do you want me?”

“Fuck,” he breathed out, the first words he’d spoken in minutes. “God,  _ yes,  _ I want you.”

You playfully bit at his neck, wrapping your arms around him, running your hands up his back. He reached behind him, fumbling for the car door handle. You helped him, pulling the door open, his body moving forwards to allow room. He stepped away from you, sitting in the driver’s seat. Before you could question him, he adjusted the seat, pushing it back as far as it would go, and gestured for you to join him. You took one final glance at the door to the house before climbing into the seat with him.

James shut the car door, giving the two of you added privacy. 

“We have to be quick,” he murmured, already breathless.

You nodded, humming in agreement, positioning yourself so you were straddling his lap. His large hands gripped your waist, steadying you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him in place, taking a moment to just look at him.

He was sweaty, red in the face, covered in engine oil and grease. He smelled like sweat and aftershave, and you briefly wondered how long he’d been out here working on the motorcycle. His hair was falling into his face, spinning into curls from his sweat. His green eyes watched you intently, his lips parted, waiting for you to move. You ran your hands down his face slowly, curling your fingers in his beard. 

You leaned into him, your nose brushing against his, and ran your tongue over his lower lip. He huffed, bucking his hips up into you, letting you know just how hard he was. You finally kissed him, the faint taste of cigarettes and beer on his tongue. You swore you could drown in the taste of him. 

He kissed you like he was dying, like you were food and he was a starving man. You kissed him with just as much fervor, your skin tingling everywhere his hands touched. However, your mind shot back to your conversation with Clarissa earlier, and you found yourself pulling back. 

“Shit,” you cursed, leaning back so your back was against the steering wheel. “Did you tell Clarissa anything about that night?”

His brow furrowed, and he quickly shook his head. “Why would I?” he questioned, leaning forward to meet you. 

You bit your lower lip, worrying the soft skin between your teeth. You weren’t sure why you thought he’d say something either. 

“I don’t want to speak anymore,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. 

His eyelids fluttered shut, his hands running over your thighs. 

“Hmm, I have something better you could do with that mouth of yours,” he hummed out, almost as if he wasn’t aware he was talking aloud. 

Your face burned, the confidence you previously had leaving you. He shifted, gently pushing you back, guiding you to the floorboard of his car. You kneeled between his legs, cramped into the tight space. Before you could protest, he was popping the button on his jeans, lifting his hips, and pushing them down his thighs. You couldn’t exactly complain when his cock bobbed expectantly in front of your face, already bright red and leaking precum. 

He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, jerking himself off slowly. You watched the way he ran his thumb along his frenulum, the sight of him smearing his precum over his swollen tip drove you mad. 

You reached out for him, wrapping your smaller hand around his, moving your hand with his. He hummed approvingly, guiding your hand over his cock. Hesitantly, you leaned forward, gently running the tip of your tongue over the slit. Salty. 

He lifted his hips, angling himself towards your face, watching you expectantly. You slowly wrapped your lips around his tip, letting your tongue cradle the underside of him. He was heavy and hot in your mouth, your teeth barely grazing the head of his cock. He let out a barely audible whimper, his free hand wrapping around the back of your neck. His fingers tightened, gripping the base of your neck, gently pushing you forward. He was impatient, it seemed. 

You inhaled deeply through your nose, opening your jaw and allowing him to slide into your mouth. You let go of him, resting your hands on his thighs. Your jaw was already sore, but you were determined to make this as pleasurable for him as you could. His thighs twitched ever so slightly under your touch, and it only spurred you on. 

You looked up at him, not wanting to miss a moment. His lips had fallen open and he had slumped into his seat, letting out quiet sighs. His eyes were closed, his thumb smoothing along the side of your neck, reassuring you. 

"So good," he whispered, giving the back of your neck a soft squeeze. 

You hummed, pulling back to swirl your tongue around his tip. You stayed there for a moment, gently sucking on the head of his cock. You spit dripped down him, mixing with the nest of hair below his waistline, sweat rolling down his navel. 

You squeezed his thighs, digging your nails into them as you bobbed your head. He gasped loudly, his hand moving from your neck to your hair. You reached out for him, and he grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. 

_ How romantic.  _

You lightly dragged your teeth over him, reveling in the way he shuddered and whined. You never thought he'd make noises like that. He pulled your hair, guiding you down his cock. His tip pressed against the back of your throat, making you gag. 

He quickly pulled you back, his cock springing out of your mouth, and you gasped for air. James cupped your face in his hands, smearing his thumb along your lower lip. 

"Are you okay?" his voice was breathless, rushed. 

"I'm fine," you answered quickly, holding onto his wrists. 

He bit his lip, his fingers trembling against your cheeks. You sat up on your knees, puckering your lips at him. He chuckled, leaning down to meet you, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

You sighed, resting your hands on his knees for support, leaning further into him. His tongue was maneuvering its way between your lips, and you were shocked to find him moaning at the taste of himself. You only kissed him harder, pulling yourself up into his lap. 

His cock was trapped between the two of you, throbbing against your lower stomach. You moaned into his mouth, tangling your fingers into his hair as you started to rock yourself into him. He groaned, moving with you, his tongue still exploring your mouth. 

He ran one of his hands down your back, the other still cupping your cheek. His large hand found your ass, and he squeezed the soft flesh, pulling you closer to him; if that was even possible. 

You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his. You ground yourself onto his cock, fucking him through your clothes. You were so close that your noses were pressed together. His face was flushed, his eyes screwed shut, his lips swollen and red. He gripped you tightly, his hips bucking up into yours, chasing his high. You whispered his name, pulling his hair, your lips finding his once again. 

He cried out your name when he came. 

-

You rushed into Clarissa's room, praying your breath had steadied. Your stomach was doing flips, you were so anxious. 

The second you entered the room, her eyes snapped up to yours. Your laptop had been shut, discarded to the side. She had her phone in her hands, most likely preparing to call you. 

"Where  _ were  _ you?" she snapped, irritation seeping into her voice. "It's been almost an hour!" 

You winced, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. 

"I… I was sick. I'm sorry," you blurted out the first lie you thought, your face burning with shame. 

"You were sick?" she repeated, incredulous. 

You swallowed, forcing back the lump in your throat. "Yeah," you answered dryly. "I- I think I need to go home." 

She scoffed, tossing her phone to the side. "Yeah," she grumbled, grabbing your laptop and holding it out to you. "You do look flushed, I guess." 

You frowned, taking the laptop from her and picking up your bag. 

"I'm sorry," you repeated, keeping your eyes on the floor. 

' _ If she only knew what for _ ,' you thought, shoving your laptop in your bag. 

You checked your pocket for your phone, slinging your bag over your shoulder after making sure it was there. You turned, heading for the door. 

"Hey, what's on your shirt?" 

You stopped dead in your tracks, looking down your front. The part of your shirt covering your lower abdomen was adorned with a small, streaked wet spot. All the blood drained from your face, and you felt like you were  _ actually _ going to be sick. 

"Uh-" you coughed out, your voice shaking, "I- I think it's vomit. I sh- should get home and clean up. I'm sorry-" 

She frowned, opening her mouth to speak, but snapping it shut. You rushed out of the room, avoiding the garage, and went straight to your car. 

There was no way you could be a worse person than you were now. 

You got in your car, slamming the door shut, and started the car with shaking hands - you dropped the keys not once, but twice. As if it weren't bad enough, as you were pulling out of the driveway, the garage door rose, opening, and there stood James, striding out of the garage as if nothing had happened. You didn't look at him, instead keeping your eyes locked on the road in front of you, and drove as fast as you could go without getting pulled over. 

When you got home, you had a text notification from James. 

_ 'I wish you hadn't left so soon. I'm going to miss you.'  _

You wanted to kill yourself. 

**Author's Note:**

> ohhh clarissa is getting sus! what do you guys think so far?? thanks to dysphorie for editing and helping me plot!! ^^


End file.
